Silhouettes
by Dagdoth Fliesh
Summary: A thief should never be trusted, especially when they steal people's very hearts. YoukoXOc/KuramaXOc possible KuronueXOc and/or HieiXOc
1. Chapter 1

Hello, my pretties. An introduction is in order. This story is based off a drawing I did not too terribly long ago, and was brought on by a need to explain the picture more thoroughly. This is pre-death Youko Kurama fan fiction, and a possible interaction he could have had with another foxy. I will provide information at the bottom of the text with numbers corresponding within ( ) these brackets. Thanks for reading! -Youmi

Silhouettes

Chapter One

It was dark, unnaturally quiet save for the sound of breathing. Minori awoke slowly, her body languidly following the command to move. (1) A blurred shape pressed its wet nose against her bare skin, a pink tongue rolling over her wounded side. Angry hot pain flashed through the deep gash straight into her spine. It still bled but more languidly. Minori managed only the smallest of sounds indicating she was among the living. Slowly the stabbing sensation was reduced to a slight sting, bearable but insistently nauseating. The animal drew back, its muzzle black-red with Minori's blood.

Her mind swirled. Minori remembered adrenaline rushing through her body, soil compressing under her feet and hands, under paws, the weight of an orb crushed in her jowl. Blue flames, thick and viscous like liquid, wreathed the ball and caressed against her body tenderly, casting her surroundings with a ghostly hue. Foggy shadows twisted against the trees, like the shapes of men.

Minori's tired eyes watched the fox's red orbs survey her. Its white hide glimmered in moonlight barring the hollow cedar, its four tails swishing back and forth. In the blink of her eye, cold hands replaced the fox's gaze. Startled, Minori flinched away from his grasp on her upper arms. A half coherent sound escaped her lips, like a cry of terror. The spirit fox was tall, filling the rest of the space within the trunk.

"You're nearly more trouble than you're worth, so stay still," his cold voice threatened. "I won't hesitate to put your long life to an end."

Minori stilled under the kitsune's hands, in too much pain to continue struggling. His bare arms slid under her knees and across her back, easily lifting her small frame. Her face was forced against his sinewy shoulder, against the silken clothes that he wore. He smelt musky, like earth, leaving a pleasant smell in Minori's nose, but the thought of him made her sick.

The fox drew her from the great cedars base, and stood tall, pausing only to look at the full moon with his golden eyes. He had a narrow, beautiful face, and high cheekbones, like many foxes in human form. But Minori could see the remnants of his true self, the silver ears, the silver hair. Those gold eyes glared down at Minori with startling intelligence, daring her to resist again. He would kill her before she even twitched.

"_Find the kitsune!_" a voice called in the distance, the glow of torches catching the foxes silver hair. He turned to look at the humans approaching through the nearly solid forest. "_It destroyed the Shrine!" _(2)

With a quickness that surprised Minori, the silver kitsune broke into a swift run. Minori's head swam to the point that it felt as if time were standing still and leaving her behind. Her breaths came in uncertain gasps, the quiet light of the moon blurring in her eyes. She felt cold, although the night was warm, although the man holding her was burning.

'That's right,' her mind seemed distant, 'he's the one who attacked me.' Minori's wound throbbed, a nauseating feeling. The villagers had tried to protect her, and her shrine. 'He killed my friends.' She felt empty and wished only for a swift death. She could still sense the woods, nearly feel it under her feet.

All too soon, they came to a halt and the ground was under her body as hands slipped from underneath her. Moss, leaves- her nose told her- dirt, soil, blood, wounds. Against the moonlight she could make out the figures of other men, their faces obscured by the very shadows they cast. Yet one held a light, dim and pulsating solemnly, just beyond the focusing length of her eyes.

Then Minori heard the kitsune's demanding voice though the haze, "Her hoshi no tama, give it here." (3)

A shadow deposited the glowing orb into his hand and it was held before her. Inside the orb something blue swirled dizzyingly, as if it tried to escape its confines. Minori reached for the object, but the kitsune's free hand grabbed her wrist tight with bruising force. No, it seemed he said, you can't have it. His palm was warm now, burning on her wrist.

"Please," the words spilled from her lips in a murmur, her fingers curling in the air, tendons straining against the tightness of his grip, "give it back, you cannot care for it."

Did he only do this to torment her? That precious thing in his grasp could not be handled with force, and she could not bear to be separated from it, just as it could not be from her. He'd taken so much from her already, what more could he take, her very soul?

"Please," Minori tried again, "What is it you want?"

"Do my bidding and it's yours."

She didn't move.

Minori felt cold, so unbearably cold. The plant material underneath her body was soft, lulling even; the air cool, caressing across her skin and numbing her pain. Minori's eyes were heavy, taking effort to stay open and watch the restless thieves around her.

The silver haired demon stood back, his figure blurring in Minori's eyes. He spoke, but she could no longer make out the words, only the underlying rumble of his voice. Those shadowy people leaned over her, blocking out the bright moon, her star ball burning brightly. One more brave than the others stepped forwards, picking her figure over his shoulder.

And then she dreamed.

Sounds of water echoed eerily, quieting much of the other sounds of nature. Minori felt like she was already swimming, her eyes unfocused and her body stiff as stone. She was still alive, but she didn't know why or how. She thought he would have killed her. That _nogitsune, _that silver spirit fox. (4).

Hah, her breath came in little gasps as she pushed against the earth. Hah. Little light reached where she lay, throwing the high ceiling into a sharp contrast of black and brown rock. It looked like limestone, the perfect molding material for caves. But the ground was soft, and her body was unbearably warm. Her arm tossed over her forehead, smearing the beads of sweat that had accumulated, her other hand grazed her wound, and she realized it was bandaged.

Why had he kept her alive? Minori's fogged, gray eyes swiveled around the chamber, which was not deep and did not continue from the entrance, forming more of a fissure than a cave. There she could make out small fires with figures huddled around them, their conversations echoing towards her.

Ah, her breath came in a frightened gasp, where was her hoshi no tama? Her tired muscles groaned as she forced herself half from her bed, made from worn but clean blankets. The rustle of that fabric caught her sharp ears and she turned to look behind her. Her bare body froze.

Gold eyes watched her.

Minori could feel her lips quiver, feel the warm air against her bare skin and the moisture that clung to it. Her breaths came sharp and her nostrils flared at each small jolt of pain brought to her bandaged wound.

He laid on his side within arms reach, head supported by a hand while his other held her orb. It again seemed aflame with ethereal blue light; this caught on his clothes and threw much of the surroundings with shadow. The kitsune's ears arched forwards, as if interested she was awake, but not alert as if she presented threat.

She grasped tentatively for the ball, but the kitsune pulled it from her reach. At the same time, he moved from his reclining position and into a crouch; Minori felt as if he were going to pounce upon her at any moment and tried to create room between them. But the cave was shallow, and she didn't manage more than a foot more before her back touched cool rock, a welcome relief to her feverish skin.

Minori could see her brown eyes reflected in his gold, the halo of black hair that surrounded her head and contrasted her pastel skin. In his eyes, the blanket that was pulled to cover her naked form seemed to cover barely anything; Minori looked away, gathering it about her as much as she could.

Suddenly his palm slammed on the rocks by her head. She jumped, eyes round and staring at the silver haired man. There was little expression on his face that was readable, just that cold gaze. What did he want from her, no, what did he even expect from her? She, a shrine kami that protected the farmer's rice, and had no other skills. He even had the gall to steal her star ball for who knows what end.

He leaned in until his breath was her air, until his silver hair and gold eyes were the only things she could see. His body heat mingled with the sweet tasting air- perhaps it was his taste- stirring cold shivers down the back of her neck.

'He's too close,' Minori's panicked thoughts raced in beat to her accelerating heart. His nose was nearly touching hers, 'Far too close.'

The blood rushed into her sensitive ears, the sound of the river outside echoing like a distant roar. She felt like fleeing, snatching her star ball from him and becoming one with the wind.

"What- what do you want?" her body shook, her hands grasping the blanket to her collar as if it were some magical shield.

He made a noncommittal sound and leaned backwards on his haunches, displeased, but only by actions.

Standing, his silks moved in the hot breeze as he turned and strolled from the cave to join his cohorts, many of whom were dressed in the same fashion. Their gi (5) were of light colors, and their skins were tanned by the sun. They turned their attentions to the silver kitsune making his way from the cave, then they looked at Minori. All she could hear was her heart and the loud swoosh of blood in her body. Her breaths still came in short pants, unable to breathe properly.

Her eyes watched the glowing trail her star ball seemed to make in the air, tracing the kitsune's path to the river. All too soon the kitsune returned, a bowl of water in his hands.

"Drink," he commanded, holding out the wooden bowl to her. But she didn't move, not a single muscle in her body twitched in response. Her eyes were fixed on him blankly, swiveling towards the star ball.

Its flame swirled, pushing against its encasing like a bird caught in a snakes grasp. He wanted her to do his bidding, whatever that might be. But he was a _nogitsune_, wild, not celestial such as she. He had no qualms about using her to his advantage, and for what she didn't know. But without her ball, Minori would weaken slowly, wither, then die.

The kitsune narrowed his gold eyes as if he knew her plan, as if he had planed it himself, not that her plan was complicated. "I'll kill you before you touch this again. I could do many things to you, many things which make death look pleasant."

Her brows knit into a scowl, her eyes flashing bitterly. The emotion welled up inside her chest like a bottle of champagne, ready to pop. The bowl still waited for her and her throat was dry, parched. Her tongue was like glue in her mouth and her gums felt like cracked clay. But her teeth were still sharp as nails.

But she wouldn't give in to him, wouldn't be fooled by that blatantly stoic stare of his. Seeing as she didn't take the bowl, the kitsune set it aside on the hard ground-

-Minori attacked in fox form.

Suddenly his steely arms wound around her furred throat and side, pinning her head against his shoulder as her jowl gnashed together fervently, begging to taste his blood but unable to twist and reach. She felt her paws kicking at her discarded blanket, her eight tails lashing through the air like whips. The moist air was in her nose- on her tongue with his scent, that awful earthly scent. But then his grip tightened.

Hot blinding pain ripped through her, as if some great bold of lightning had pierced her side. The feeling tore out of her in a hellish shriek, but now she was not fighting to hurt him but to get away! Minori's head tossed side to side in fits, wriggling until even he had some trouble pinning her. She tasted blood, but it was not his. Her side was damp, her body was growing cold.

The energy that had surged through her quickly drained until her legs felt limp, heavy, though she struggled. Minori's head rolled and her vision swam. She couldn't retain her fox form without the star ball. Slowly it slipped, and her human face was pressed against the strong male's shoulder, and it was her bare broken form he held.

"With your powers stowed inside the star ball," his voice tickled her ear, "You're helpless. That was a foolish thing to do."

She felt the blanket and hard ground underneath her back as her vision swam in and out. Minori felt the blood as it seeped quickly from her reopened wound, noticed how red it had stained his hands and his clothes, even as he patched her side. Her head lolled again, hissing breaths between her teeth. It was a strange thing to see so much of her blood out of her body. This mortal body.

Delirium weaved its fabric around her in caresses, her teeth chattered from cold. She had been so hot before, and now she wanted that feeling back. She slipped into unconsciousness for a brief moment then came back again, as if the painless sleep wouldn't accept her mind and body.

Angry and frightened tears streaked down her dirty face, leaving trails as damp as the air. Her body went through fits, not quite realizing it was a human body, not quite understanding that it couldn't move as much as it should because there was a spirit fox pinning it to the ground as he stitched her together. It wouldn't heal properly, she was too weak, there was no energy in her husk of a body.

She bit into the back of her hand to keep the falsetto cry behind her lips and tasted more of her blood. Sweet, as coppery as it should have been, like iron dressed in honey. The heavy weight of him leaned away, out of her flickering vision. She wished for that darkness, but it wouldn't reach her.

By morning, she felt as if something in her had gone. Minori's eyes were blurry. Her heart ached to return to the village, let life be as it had, with her watchful gaze over the farmer's rice and theirs on her quaint shrine. But she knew that was impossible. Her shrine was destroyed and some villagers had been killed. Regretfully, they would kill her, because she couldn't hold her end of the bargain to them. (6)

Sap seemed to have seeped into her eyes, because they took time to open. Many blankets had been piled atop her but her breath had evened out. Then she saw that male fox, looking at her through half lidded eyes. The hoshi no tama was at his side, weak, swirling. He sat close by, the sunrays dancing off his hair and skin.

"What do you want?" she recognized the croaking sound as her voice.

His ears arched forwards. He had cleaned himself of her blood; his gi was white, his hands without a speck of red.

"You well know by now," he stated evenly, his brows forever pulled into a slight dip.

The air was drier than the day before, her body was parched and sticky with blood. Minori didn't know what to do anymore. Her will was defeated, her limbs sore and useless for the day, maybe weeks.

Her eyes sank closed, her hands felt the smooth rock, lulling her into a state of calm. Minori mumbled with what air she could use, "Confound you, if you don't give it back to me, I'll be your enemy forever more," not that she would live long enough to keep true to that, if he never gave it back. "But… please, I impeach you, give it back and I'll do my best to stick to you like a protector god." Minori's voice cracked and wavered, unable to face that she had given into his plots.

A pleased sound escaped him, he closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head downwards as if some great wish had come true. Locks of his silver hair slid over his shoulders, hiding his face momentarily from view. Then he stood, and set the ball next to her without another sound, exiting the fissure.

Disbelievingly Minori reached for her Hoshi no Tama, all the muscles in her body protesting, as if she would break in half. It was warm against her fingers, as if her heart pounded in her own hand. Drawing the ball close a stray tear cut it's way down her face, and then another. She wept for some time, ragged with sobs curled around her ball, undisturbed by the thieves.

And undisturbed by the kitsune that had stolen her freedom.

Thus concludes Chapter One. I think this one will be okay as far as my other fan fictions with Kurama. I love reviews! Tell me how I'm doing! But please don't ask me to update soon, for I am short of time. I'll get these out as I can XD. Thanks once again for reading!

Much of this following information was taken from wikipedia and a site containing a report on kitsune. Once I find the site name I'll place it up for everyone.

(1): Minori: Minori's name means 'Crops' as in rice crops. 'Holy' kitsune often have the 'ri' at the end of their names. According to much information I have gathered on kitsune for this story, kitsune do not use their real names among mortals, and thus Minori's real name is not Minori. These names are just figments of tasks they have done for those they protect, and in Minori's case, the farmer's crops. If a kitsune were to give out it's real name, magic could be preformed to control it in some manner.

(2) Minori's shrine: in Japan, there are many shrines dedicated to white kitsune (which are considered to be messengers of Inari) and Inari itself, a Shinto deity of rice. These kitsune protect the shrine and those who pray to it. At these shrines offerings of food and items take place to coerce myobu (4) into fending off wild foxes that do not serve Inari.

(3) Hoshi no Tama: A _star ball _is just that a ball, or sometimes a gem. Many kitsune use it just like a normal ball, but it is thought that when a kitsune is shape shifting this ball holds a portion of their soul or power. If one gets their hands on this ball they can force the kitsune into doing tasks for them.

(4) Nogitsune/ Myobu: also _wild_ and _celestial_, those who don't follow Inari and those who do. Youko Kurama is best described as a 'spirit fox' and comes under one of thirteen categories of kitsune called 'ghost or demon' foxes. These are a _bad_ kind of kitsune as is obvious from his past, and are called nogitsune. Meanwhile there are also the myobu, celestial foxes which are considered good omens and 'high' kitsune. These kitsune are often called on to drive off nogitsune.

(5) Gi: a martial artists fighting clothes. In this case the bandits outfits and Youko Kurama's spiritual armor.

(6) Minori's bargain plus some behavior: kitsune must keep their promises and word of honor. Crossing a kitsune can cause them to become deathly enemies. There is also a kitsune's sin of regret, which can kill them outright. Minori feels that she has broken her promise and sees that the villagers will not accept this failure.

Because kitsune tend to live in families they work together as much as possible. And lone kitsune, like Youko Kurama, tend to try and make families, such as his bandits. So thus myobu, Minori, would much rather prefer to drive away nogitsune like Youko Kurama rather than kill them. This was Minori's mistake as Kurama's object was not the villagers but herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you everyone who took the time to review and those who faved and alerted. I rewrote this chapter over an over again, until I decided that every other chapter will be between the past and "present." This next chapter takes place in the present. I also realize that I never gave the link to my picture this fanfic is based from, so here ya'll go: makaikingyomi. deviantart .com/gallery/24086468/d2m3d01. (there is a space between makaikingyomi., deviantart, and .com, so the link appears!) Now read and enjoy!

White Rose Fox: I'm happy you love it. :D

Saya: Your praise makes me happy inside. I honestly love fanfic's that use a lot of lore, because it gives them more depth.

Yuki-chan: I'm sorry I didn't update soon for you D: Hopefully you'll forgive me though~!

Mikagei: Thanks! :D

Jennie: You said you'd love more, so here you go! XD

Death101- Fox Version: I'm happy you like Minori, I'm always afraid I'm making her Mary-Sue.

Neko-fire demon tempesst: I'm happy you're not taking that review too seriously. Thanks! :D

* * *

Chapter Two

Sometimes, she wondered if this is how he had planned everything to go. If he had stolen a promise from her, to abuse what little powers she had to protect him, and then die. She was not a limitless deity… she could not raise him from the dead.

The train compartment was crowded; a dark haired woman stood between the bustling bodies of people waiting for the cart to stop, one arm raised above her head to grasp a black handle. Her yukata was a dull ashen color; her plain brown eyes stared over the shoulder of a tall businessman, and out through the nearby window. Below the fast paced rail the city streets whipped by. The people were talking in low whispers. She couldn't hear them.

There was a deafening silence all around, the cold steel beneath her bare feet burned. In the corner, a small child with bright, wide eyes, looked upon her with mouth curling into a smile. Minori's throat was tight, hot with tears. The child continued looking at her curiously, raising his hands with a strangled gurgle and happy laughter, asking for attention. She gripped the black handle tightly.

It was not his fault; he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Above, the lights fluttered on and off, rousing the suspicion of a few men who raised their heads from newspapers. The track was going faster and faster now, grinding beneath the car until a horrible screech filled the air. In the limbo of silence, Minori could not hear their screams, and she closed her eyes tight when water brimmed, when the cab shook and flew from the rails, when the baby in his mother's arms was ripped rudely away by the force of the crash - - when the child's blood splattered across the steel grating.

The first arrivals to the crash swore they saw a white fox (1) slip from the wreckage and flee down the track. There were no survivors.

The air tasted stale to her, the ground under her paws dry and without warmth, as if it were sucked away by some great force. Minori fled back to the start of it all in the countryside, her old village where the crops had grown thick and soft gold in the sun and mountains. Now it laid a ruin, the wooden houses rotted away from countless generations of disuse and an ancient battles. The fields were overgrown, and the water was foul. The land was a stagnant swamp that she could neither hear, taste, smell, or truly feel.

The woman curled next to what was left of her shattered shrine, the only monument of her past, forehead to her knees and arms around her body. The stone fox was in pieces; she could not pick them up with soiled hands. Ghostly fox fires lit the area around her, those poor souls she had taken from the train mingling as hitodama(2).

But no matter how many souls she took, or would take, none could fill the gap of her missing star ball.

Sometimes, she could not remember anything, only vague flashes of gold eyes and silver tongues. Minori wondered if she was anything, stuck between the living and the dead - - in purgatory forever. She wondered if she had a past or consciousness at all. Days, weeks, and months rolled into the span of a moment for Minori, the hitodama swirling in absent confusion, unable to leave as their life forces were sucked thin by the starving kitsune.

Then humans came.

When the young man stood before her demolished shrine, he touched the stone and desecrated her revere. He was young, curled black hair and narrow umber eyes, but old in the face with freckles across his nose. His friends came as well, for a total of five, campers.

'Why did you touch it?' Minori questioned him, hugging her body close as the overwhelming urge to fill the gap inside her reared its ugly head. She bit her lip tightly as her throat tightened once again.

The young man and his friends did not realize they were being watched throughout the night, enjoying their short break in the clearing of her shrine, neither noticing the lack of life of the surrounding swamp nor questioning. In the morning, they didn't realize their group of five was now six, and Minori padded after on deathly silent paws and a menagerie of dead souls.

She followed from a distance, a quiet and morose soul. Woods and ancient battle grounds turned to suburbs, then to towering streets. The concrete was cold, the crowds were vast, but Minori did not loose them. Days may have passed, months, Minori always floating behind the one who had touched her precious shrine, waiting for a time to take him like the train. He spent much of his time in college, writing papers constantly for long sleepless nights. Then the hitodama were fully absorbed and disappeared.

* * *

Yuu Kaitou groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, moaning into the night of his apartment. His computer shone brightly through the dark room, highlighting the small window and kitchen faucet. It leaked, filling the quiet night with slow metallic drops. And yet Kaitou never rose to push the handle down, comforted vaguely by each splatter.

He set his hands again on the keyboard, drumming out further lines of a progressive thesis, critiquing his own work at the same time. But with each passing moment his eyelids felt heavier and heavier behind his wire-rimmed glasses, making it impossible to look at the blurred screen. "This is insane," he finally mumbled, pinching his nose again to ease the ache in his skull. "At this rate I'll have to rewrite everything; my brain is mush."

The silence of the room went unnoticed until Kaitou realized the water had stopped dripping. He turned his head, resting his sharp chin on his palm and looked wearily towards the sink. A few plants with leafy green leaves appeared nearly black on the counter, a clock ticked on the wall - - then that too stopped. The cold that went down Kaitou's spine had him out of his chair within a moment.

"Who's there?" he called. His voice was strained - - he hadn't noticed it before, but there was definitely an _odd_ feeling in the room. 'A demon?' he thought, smiling bitterly, he'd promised Genkai he wouldn't use the powers of Taboo again, so this complicated things.

In answer, the spiritual presence washed over him, cold and empty. Much to his vexation, he watched in tense silence his favorite coffee cup slid and shattered on the floor. The apparition continued down the line, and his budding jade plant was next, pot breaking.

"Show yourself," he said, before it could reach the next object on the counter.

But then the chill slowly melted away, and the clock began ticking again from its frozen position. Water thumped against the steel drain. Kaitou was much too smart to know it had left - - he could faintly feel a tickle in the back of his neck that said it was still there, watching, waiting.

A week passed, and every incident with the spirit became worse, to the point that everything and anything that could go wrong did. Kaitou's computer fried on the third day, and on the fourth on his way to get the computer repaired, a van had almost hit him. Knives had shot out of the kitchen drawer on the fifth, nearly impaling the student. The sixth and seventh were no better.

Kaitou did the only thing he could - - he called for backup. There was after all a man with far more experience in these matters than he, even if Kaitou still held a grudge against the him after graduating Meiou Private Academy four years before. The redhead was more than curious.

"Long time no see - or hear, in this case - Minamino-san," Kaitou greeted over the phone.

"_Indeed,_" Kurama answered from his side. "_You don't sound very lively, is everything well?"_

"Not exactly. What do you know about angry spirits?" Kaitou asked. For the time being, there was a reprieve in the murder attempts. But each day had seemed too slow, dragging on for the wordsmith, his energy sapping away. He felt fatigued, no matter how long he slept. Pinching his nose, the other side of the line was rather quiet.

And then he had his answer. "_I'll be right over._"

* * *

Minori didn't know what to make of the man who had made himself comfortable in the room. His eyes were dark green, a mixture of honey and pines, calm and calculating. A long thick mane of wine-red hair framed a delicate looking face made with those crafty eyes and high cheeks. The clock moved back and forth, each tick echoing in the small apartment, every tock reverberating in her chest. When he spoke, the voice did not seem so faint to Minori.

Those green eyes surveyed, looking through the air but not seeing her. Once they settled near her, but not true to her face. "There is definitely a presence here," and his voice was light spoken but strong. "When did it appear?"

"Last Monday," Kaitou admitted, running fingers through frazzled curly hair. "It's malicious - - it started out small, knocking things to the ground, but now it's literally throwing knives." A thumb was jerked towards the kitchen ceiling where a barrage of holes were revealed.

The red-headed man glanced mildly at the damage then returned attentions to his friend. "Had you done anything unusual before that?"

"No, merely college work," and then his lips were moving, but no sound came forth. Minori stood stalk still, watching the voiceless lips move in a mantra. The red-head replied, leaning back, splaying his hand, interested in the tale.

The void raised its ugly head again inside Minori, screaming for something to fill it. Anything, all things. It flickered outwards and drew back with more tendrils of the boy's energy. She held the flame-like substance in her cupped hands, straying closer to the pair.

Green eyes had fixed on her now, and there was such a calm concealed maliciousness that she felt herself draw back. Those eyes she could not place but knew well. They said: harm this human and it shall be you who is harmed. She would have offered the dark-haired human's soul back, but she couldn't, it had already began sinking into her. The energy in her palms withered and dispersed.

"It obviously wants you dead," the red-head said, although his sharp eyes had not turned away. Minori felt trapped in open space. "Have you traveled recently? Did you visit any shrines where jibakurei(3) may be bound?"

"Shrines?" the man leaned back, chin in hand. "No, no I haven't been to a shrine since - wait." And at that did he realize his error. "I went camping with friends in the countryside weeks ago. We found a shrine along a marsh."

And so they made plans to travel that very weekend, and Minori followed. It was a familiar situation, being on a train. She swallowed tightly, holding herself in the seats across from theirs in the small cab. They talked, caught up on times she had not experienced. The air felt cold, yet thick.

Her hand reached out by its own accord and touched at the red-heads face. Her hand could not truly feel, ghosting along the planes of his effeminate face. His eyes hardened and snapped towards her. She believed for a long moment that he could see, this strangely familiar man, so she tentatively removed herself from his person.

Sometimes, Minori wondered just what had happened to make her soul wither thus. The fox demon who had taken it was dead, after all, she was not a limitless deity.

The train shook beneath them, the sound of a whistle high in the air, a roar of the wheels coming to a jerking stop. Passengers disbanded from the steel contraption and Minori, as always, followed.

They reached her shrine at nightfall.

The red-head moved forwards to inspect the broken figure of the kitsune, the myobu, and the dark haired one stayed to the side. Minori wanted to tell the stranger to stay back, not to touch, but as all the visitors did, he reached out a palm and stoked the stone in an oddly drawn way, purposeful, before he turned and looked further for clues. But all the clues he had were already there, and he had his evidence.

"A kitsune shrine," said he, "our opponent is not a jibakurei, but a fox, and an old one at that. I should have known."

"Great," the dark-haired psychic groaned, slumping to the ground in a state of fatigue. He could not take her spiritual feeding. "What now, Minamino-san?"

And those green eyes turned to Minori, and she knew that he _saw_ her truly, a white kitsune: eight-tails and all. And he spoke the most destructive words he could. "We tell the truth: that her illusion is forfeit."(4)

It was as if glass had shattered, only that her body was the glass, falling to the ground. Minori gasped in the air, a warm sticky air, before she gagged on blood and vomited a large amount. Her body shook, and her wild eyes flashed between the pair.

It was dark, unnaturally quiet save for her hoarse breaths. The dark-haired human was wide eyed, as if he'd never seen a woman appear out of thin air as the veil of her power was ripped away. The green-eyed demon looked at her with a calm that belayed his dangerous nature, and there was only one thought in Minori's mind. Run away. Run.

_Her mind swirled. Minori remembered adrenaline rushing through her body, soil compressing under her feet and hands, under paws, the weight of an orb crushed in her jowl. Blue flames, thick and viscous like liquid, wreathed the ball and caressed against her body tenderly, casting her surroundings with a ghostly hue. Foggy shadows twisted against the trees, like the shapes of men._

There was a tree ahead, tall and wide, ancient, strong. At the base was a gap, a wide - wide gap and she knew it was her only chance to hide. And then came the pain, a flash of steel in the night air. The darkness of a shadow rose up to greet her and plunged his katana into her shoulder.

There were red-eyes, the color of fiery cherries, an almond shape, and dark, dark hair. A message in his eyes, an order of: maim, but not kill. She could not scream, only feel the white hot agony in her shoulder before the steel withdrew and she was able to lurch forwards into that darkness inside the hollow cedar. Hot blood rushed down her arm, staining her dull yukata and the ground within the ancient tree as it had done once before, and she collapsed, coughing on blood that would not stop, and trying to conjure any power to heal, but unable.

Her hoshi no tama was gone. Stolen, after all.

Her pale-brown eyes were almost closed, looking out of the hole and into the night, where a pair of dark boots stood proud, and in the distance, the red-head and his companion drew near. The roots of the cedar wound and concealed the entrance, but for him, she knew it would not matter.

"This is what you called me for?" the one in boots snapped, and she saw the flash of the katana as he flicked her blood from the blade and sheathed. "Pathetic."

"Your help is appreciated Hiei," and the red-head drew near, crouching before the hole into the earth where Minori rested along the rot and mulch of era's past. His silhouette was outlined by the bright moon, hair a silver glimmer of a past she didn't want to remember, but must. It'd happened just like this, hadn't it? And those hands reached for her once again, but he needed to get closer, and entered the hollow of the cedar until she hadn't even room to breathe.

The demon's face was carefully controlled now, perhaps she would even call it gentle - - but not truly, not in a thousand years - not in twenty. "Don't move," the red-head commanded, and she stilled under the hands that scooped under her torso, easily living her still too small frame.

A human smell now as she was pressed to his lean torso. Human sweat, human exertion, the smell of the pines and of sweet flower; his clothes were rough. And then he was drawing her skeletal body free of the base and stood tall with her cradled in his arms, green eyes forwards to the other two as her blood continued to seep and spread into his clothes.

"I am not limitless," Minori managed to say, feeling that cold set in, and drawing their eyes. "Youko Kurama died."

Her eyes rolled past their eyes and into the starry sky, through the twisting bows of the cedar. She was cold, unbearably cold, and her body shook to retain a warmth that wouldn't come. She felt thin, not physically, but mentally, as if she were being pulled in two directions and knew not where she was to go.

"_Take her to Genkai_," his voice as distant from her roving mind, "_quickly._"

And then other hands were taking her and a smell of cinders and blood, demon blood. Rough hands that cared not for her fur or the blood that drooled from her jaw. The darkness was nearly complete there, but all Minori could remember was the sight of the silver silhouette and golden eyes.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please review! It helps me continue!

(1) white foxes: white foxes are considered bad omens in Japanese culture, much like black cats in European lore.

(2) hitodama: the souls of the recently dead taking on a physical shape. According to wikipedia, they are believed to lead people off track, and are many times imitated by kitsune for the same purpose. They look like the spirit of the little girl that Gouki stole early in the YYH series.

(3) jibakurei: a ghost bound to a certain place.

(4) seeing through a kitsune illusion can actually bring them physical harm.


End file.
